more lightHow forgetful I am, to only think of winter in shades of dark, cold, and the occasional dreary dead.Dec 26, 2022A response icon2Dec 26, 2022A response icon2
idle landIt troubles me how little I understand of the way memory works: the back and forth, the pacing. The waiting rooms.May 8, 2022A response icon1May 8, 2022A response icon1
poetics of timeInfinitely small increments of time add up into miracles. Not a slow drip of singular seconds but maybe rain.Jan 25, 2022A response icon1Jan 25, 2022A response icon1
un cœur au bois dormantI worry I am smothering my heart to death.Jan 3, 2022A response icon2Jan 3, 2022A response icon2
Chagall blueLately I have been bottling up days like kitchen jars.Dec 2, 2021A response icon2Dec 2, 2021A response icon2
pour grief into anything and it will hold its shapeGrief is an endless summer night with air too heavy to sleep or breathe. The window is open but no air will come through.Jun 9, 2021A response icon2Jun 9, 2021A response icon2
et j’aimerai le bruit du vent dans le blé…Before I met you I was busy building my own mythology.Dec 27, 2020Dec 27, 2020
